


i'll keep running

by TrasBen



Series: 'Till Then [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Edge is man on a mission, Edge is strong but so so so dumb and reckless sometimes, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Stretch can be an asshole sometimes, Zombie Apocalypse, lots of sad boy hours, they're all just trying their best, with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:15:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25744198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrasBen/pseuds/TrasBen
Summary: Nearly one year after the world ends, Edge meets someone(s) who might be able to help him piece his own world back together.... Even if it takes getting in a few fist fights along the way.(1,000 word chapters)
Relationships: Papyrus/Papyrus (Undertale), SpicyHoney - Relationship
Series: 'Till Then [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867498
Comments: 25
Kudos: 37





	1. sitting duck

The steady beating of fleshy arms and hands against the wooden door was almost rhythmic. If Edge wanted, he might’ve been able to find a pattern in the rasping yowls and low growls that accompanied the beat. He’s always been good at finding patterns.

… 

Edge had given a lot of thought to the way he’d die.

Somehow the image of dozens of diseased human corpses beating down the door while he hides in an old yet sturdy shed isn’t one of the ways he’d thought it might go down.

It almost makes him _angry._

This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen. He’s not supposed to be _weak._

But three days without sleep or food had taken its toll, and now Edge has to pay the price for his own poor planning. Unable to dredge up enough magic to even barricade the door, he’s stuck.

Skull throbbing, limbs weary.

And all he can think about is Red. 

How he’ll never see him again, how he’s failed him. 

Edge is about to die, sat against the farthest corner of the dinky little shack, staring at the light pouring in from the gaps in the ceiling as it spills to the floor, waiting to see if the door will give in first and undead will rush him, or if the walls will fall first and crush him to dust. He’s going to leave Red alone.

His sockets slip shut and lets the sounds and smells of his final moments wash over him. The smell of decay is thick in the air, but for a second, Edge swears he can smell cigarette smoke. The same kind from that awful brand Red used to indulge in and for that _split_ second he thinks he might be hallucinating, but the sudden sound of gore from outside isn’t something he’d find in his regular daydreams.

The low growls from outside turn to something like shrieking and Edge _almost_ flinches at the sound of those dead vocal cords moving in ways they were never meant to.

He realizes, belatedly, that he’s been too focused on the dead, because when the shrill calls silence he can hear talking. Low, soft. The exhaustion from what he’d thought were his final moments along with the lack of sleep has his hearing shot to hell, so he can’t make out what they’re saying.

Only the almost argumentative tone between at least three different sources.

The cigarette smell gets stronger and Edge lets it carry him away to memories of happier times before they burst in. He knows what’s coming. 

Edge had met a few survivors during his trek halfway across the country: the ones that weren’t terrified of a seven foot tall skeleton upon initial meetings were openly hostile.

It’d only been quick thinking and his own physical and magical ability that kept him from being mugged or dusted several times over.

Again, Red appears in his mind's eye. 

_He’d_ be able to talk his way out of this. Or, even better, he’d have called Edge out on his bullshit three days ago when he’d decided that sleep was obsolete and stopping for a few hours to search some nearby houses for food was a waste of time.

A pitiful feeling claws its way through Edge’s soul, sharp and longing and terrible. He grits his teeth. Edge _hates_ feeling pitiful, hates the feeling of not being able to do anything. But he’s near incapacitated on the floor, a sitting duck. There’s not a single thing he can do besides spit and pray to whoever’s listening.

A lazy knock penetrates the relative silence, the hinges on the shoddy door of the shed squeal under the slight pressure after the earlier abuse. Edge’s skull gives a hard throb.

“knock knock,” An anticipatory voice calls out. Then, the door is kicked down.

The shed really does sway for a moment and Edge curses under his breath, but it doesn’t fall. Instead, bright light from the early afternoon sun floods in and he’s momentarily blinded. A dark figure appears in the light, almost haloed by it.

Deliriously, Edge believes for a second that his prayers were heard and an angel has come to save him.

Of course there’s no angel, though, because the figure draws out a long puff from their cigarette and blows it in Edge’s direction.

“you’re supposed to say ‘who’s there?’” They say. Edge’s eye sockets have finally adjusted to the light and he can see that the figure is a skeleton like himself. Tall and lanky, although Edge would have to be standing to tell if the other was actually taller, with a long skull and round cheekbones and sockets that almost look sunken in.

He must have been silent for too long, because the two owners of the other voices Edge had heard peek in behind the other skeleton to get a good look at him. A squat looking dinosaur monster with yellow scales and behind her, a cat monster with orange fur and a hesitant grin.

The skeleton makes a _tsk_ ing noise, “what, did you lose your funny bone?”

Edge scowls. The humor lazy reminds him of his brother Truthfully, if the other _had_ been Red, it might’ve gotten a grin out of him. Then again, Red could walk in right now and cough in his face and Edge would just be happy to see him.

“Cut it out, bonehead.” The dinosaur scolds. They turn to Edge next and come a little closer, squatting down. “You okay there, champ? Hurt?”

Under any other circumstance, Edge would’ve kept his mouth shut, but this interaction had shown him just how close he was to losing everything.

“... Magic exhaustion.” He bites out, shaking his head.

“Got any weapons?” They ask. 

Edge shakes his head yet _again_. His magic _had_ been enough. As soon as he’s recovered, though, he’ll be sure to get something nice and weighted.

The dinosaur hums, grins, and sticks out a hand. “Alright then! You wanna come with us?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides behind hands*
> 
> yes i know staying at home has me posting a new fic every other week!!! my brainy brain literally can't stop pumping out aus!!!!!! at least im using different characters this time!!!!!!!!!
> 
> anyways this is my first stint at papcest, but i've had my eye on spicyhoney for a good while and i figured i'd give it a shot. if you're reading this and haven't checked out the second work in this series.... i'd implore you to do so. it's the other side to this coin and features another ship i haven't been able to write yet!!! cherryblossom!!!


	2. trucking along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> edge has. regrets

The experience of being manhandled by a monster half Edge’s size is degrading. Embarrassing. _Humiliating_ , even.

What’s worse is that he actually _needs_ the help. 

The time it took to get him up on his legs was ridiculous. Even now, Edge still feels like a baby deer taking its first steps. The only thing that makes any of this better is that the lizard monster with her arm wrapped around his hips isn’t laughing, although much can’t be said for the skeleton meandering along with them.

There’s no audible laughter, but the monster keeps taking short glances his way.

Edge tries not to think about that.

Instead, he keeps his attention split between the two new monsters who he’d been introduced to when they finally got him out of the shed.

Spines, the lizard monster, had introduced herself first. She’d then nodded to the skeleton, _Stretch_. Told him they were from a settlement not too far from here.

Outside the shed waited a bunny monster with a gore-slick baseball bat and a much more chipper looking cat monster. Buddy and Felix, respectively. The two of them stand up next to a big truck.

Felix waves and calls them over.

Edge steps over the multitude of half-rotted human bodies with the help of Spines as she talks all about _New Ebott._ He grunts at intervals to show he’s listening and watches the sun dip over the horizon, red like fresh human blood.

(It looks like the sky is bleeding, spilling into the dirt. Or maybe that’s just Edge’s fuzzy vision.)

Apparently New Ebott has walls. And undernet, as Stretch points out.

“Hey, who knows, maybe you’ll know someone there.” Spines suggests him amiably as she helps him into the back of the military-esque truck. Already sitting at one of the benches is Stretch. 

He winks and waves. Edge grunts again.

Rolling his shoulders to sit an an angle that won’t murder his spine, Edge leans up against the wall. “Not likely.”

His only living family had been further up north, last he checked. Stuck up in a hospital bed snoozing the days away. During one of those rare times Red had been lucid enough to talk, he’d joked about how he was living the life. He never could have gotten away with sleeping so much back when they were Underground.

Edge hadn’t reminded him that Falling Down wasn’t an option back then. He’d just scolded his brother for leaving crumbs in his bed.

(Red had brushed them off onto the floor and shrugged. Typical.)

“aw, don’t be such a debbie downer.” Stretch snickers. It’s a scratchy sound, like the inside of his ribcage is clogged up with all the smoke he’d been inhaling earlier. 

(It’s familiar. Edge wishes he’d stop talking.)

Spines takes a few more minutes outside the truck to talk with the two fuzzier monsters before climbing in the back with them. “Alright, we’re heading straight back.” She tells the two of them.

“nice.” Stretch replies, “i’m _bone_ tired.”

Edge’s face twitches, but he doesn’t say anything. He just focuses on the vibrations of the truck starting up, bracing himself against the sudden movement of the vehicle as it rolls away from the decrepit shed.

Good riddance.

“Okay, Mr. Funnybone…” Spines scoffs, “I don’t know how the hell Blue puts up with your bullshit.” With her arms crossed, she looks displeased, but her voice is fond. 

Edge lets the conversation filter by him, more focused on getting rest.

“whaaaat?” Stretch draws the word out in faux-disbelief, “are you tellin’ me to _scale_ it back?”

“Ha ha ha. I’m laughing _soooo_ hard right now.” 

Stretch chuckles, a little louder than before. “don’t hurt yourself, there.”

Perhaps the scorning noise Edge makes is just a little too loud. Both their heads swivel to him, and Edge reaches for his magic before he can remind himself that he’s broker than one of Muffet’s whores. He has to smother the instinctual panic that realization and smooth down the surprised expression that’s surely taken over his face.

“... Say, Edgelord...” Spines starts casually. If she minds Edge’s blatant disrespect, she doesn’t show it. Which… actually adds to his uneasiness. He’s not already convinced that he hasn’t signed some sort of death contract by agreeing to go with these monsters (not that he’d had much of a choice), but her friendliness is setting off all of his worst paranoias. “... I never got your name.”

Edge has to pause to remember that he never gave it. Especially since Spines had essentially half got it already. He sighs and prepares himself for the mockery that is more than likely incoming. “... It’s Edge.”

Stretch shifts. His brow bones are halfway up his skull in shock, “wait, really?”

“Yes.” Edge bites out.

For a minute, the only sound is the truck crushing dry grass and using up gas. That is, until Spines slaps her thigh and guffaws loudly.

“That’s perfect! Hah!”

Edge sighs and sits back again, watching the two monsters lose their shit with lidded sockets. They make a few jabs that are likely friendly, but Edge just filters them out again.

A truck.

Edge hadn’t been able to find a workable vehicle in the past four months he’s been traveling. At least, not one that would last for more than a few hours or wasn’t full of human remains. He’s almost resentful.

But the bigger picture quickly occurs to him: Spines had been explicit when talking about all of New Ebott’s resources.

In a place like that, it’s not unreasonable to assume that perhaps Edge could get his hands on a vehicle of his own. Enough fuel to last him however long he needed. Food. He’d also need supplies for Red, surely. 

Red had hardly been able to prop himself up against his pillows the last time Edge had seen him in person. Red would likely require blankets, easily digestible sustenance, perhaps even medication…

Edge has kept Red waiting for long enough. It’s time to bring him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me? adding to a wip i started last year in quarantine?
> 
> yes. that's right. i'm in it to win it.

**Author's Note:**

> alllllllllso here's my [tumbly](https://beanniebenn.tumblr.com/) ... if you wanna ask questions about any of my boys iiiiiii will be happy to answer them!


End file.
